Being Normal

by C.S. Hayden

All characters are the property of Akira Toriyama, DragonBall Z and Toei Animation.

A shadow fell across the dunes in front of Krillin's feet. He looked up from where he was cleaning up beach debris to see Eighteen landing lightly on deck of the Kame House, shopping bags on both arms. She glanced over at him and he waved at her as he leaned against his rake.

"Hey!" he called out. "Find any good bargains?"

"Some," Eighteen replied. "At least I don't have to wear the same thing anymore."

"Great! Wanna give us a fashion show later?" He prepared to duck as the words left his mouth, dreading her reaction. Eighteen had only been staying with them at the Kame House for a few weeks and they were all still wary of her fickle moods. Fortunately, the earlier years of living with Lunch had prepared them for life with a homicidal female.

Cocking her head to one side, Eighteen merely looked at him inscrutably. "I suppose so. It was your money, after all." She opened the door and disappeared inside.

"Whew, you dodged that one," Master Roshi said as he re-emerged from the cover of his upturned lawn chair. "She must really be in a good mood."

"Yeah, guess so." Sweat was beginning to trickle down his back and Krillin went back to raking the sand smooth. It was hardly a necessary chore; the next tide would sweep the beach clean but old habits were hard to break. The old abbot at the monastery taught him the simple Zen exercise to relax the mind and Krillin had always enjoyed it.

As boys, he and Goku used to collect the treasures washed up on the shore. Polished discs of beach glass still dangled from the eaves of the house where Lunch had made wind chimes out of them. The excess debris - seaweed, dead fish, odd bits of driftwood -- went into the compost for the small garden behind the house. Krillin picked up one or two particularly nice seashells to show Eighteen later. He'd discovered that the sullen cyborg liked pretty things, the more iridescent and shiny the better, and anything that made her happy was worth the effort.

By the time he had finished and had put everything away, Krillin was ready for a swim. He was floating on his back when Master Roshi whistled.

"Why, Eighteen! You look lovely!"

In his haste to stand up, a wave swept over him and Krillin stumbled out of the surf, spluttering and spitting. He looked up blearily as he blinked the salt water out of his eyes and gaped at Eighteen. She was brushing her hair out of her face pensively as she stood there in a sundress, a tropical print in turquoise with bright splashes of coral and sea green. It buttoned down the front but she'd left the bottom few unbuttoned. The breeze caught her skirt and swished it around to show dazzling flashes of bare leg.

"Oh." She frowned down at her outfit. "You don't like it."

"No! Yes! I mean - it's great!" Krillin stammered. "I think it's perfect."

Master Roshi came to his rescue. "Exactly what I was thinking too, Krillin. While you're living here on the island, Eighteen, you should try to be comfortable." He gave the cyborg a friendly leer. "Why, when Lunch and Bulma were staying here, they wore shorts and bikinis and things like that so they could be cool in this warm weather."

Eighteen shrugged. "Weather doesn't affect me." She started to go back inside.

"Wait!" Krillin ran his hands through the short stubble on his head to squeegee it off. "Um, since you're all dressed up, would you like to go into town with me?"

"I was just IN town."

"We wouldn't be going far, just to this little dockside pub I know." Krillin smiled up at her with his best puppy dog expression. "Please?"

She opened her mouth to speak when Oolong's compact jetcar spiraled in for a landing. The talking pig waved a bright pink bag as he struggled out of the car. "Hey, Master Roshi! Guess what I got at the Hentai Hut?"

"Woo hoo!! Fire up the VCR, boys! It's gonna be a hot time tonight!"

Eighteen's eyes widened for a moment and then she blinked. "I accept."

Krillin beamed. "I'll grab a shower and change."

* * * * *

The flight across the bay to the neighboring fishing village seemed to last longer than usual. Krillin couldn't help noticing how Eighteen glowed in the pink light of the setting sun and when twilight fell, rapidly as it did in the tropics, how the deep blue of the sky was reflected in her eyes. He was trying hard not to gawk at her but it was difficult. When they swung around to land, the wind flipped her skirts up and he nearly flew into a telephone pole from the distraction.

Luckily, Eighteen had been occupied with straightening her outfit so by the time she noticed Krillin, he was able to act as though nothing had happened. "So?" she said haughtily. "Where's this place you wanted to go to?"

"Just down the boardwalk," Krillin replied and led the way. "I've been going here for years."

"Years?" Eighteen looked curiously at the store windows. She caught her reflection and straightened her hair with her fingers.

"Yeah, I've been training with Master Roshi since I was thirteen, you know. Every now and then, I'd get an urge to be around normal people so I'd take a boat over to the mainland and I'd wind up here." He grinned and pointed to a whitewashed shanty on the end of the piers. Colored lights were hung off its green awnings and muffled music echoed over the water. "That's where we're going, Lukey's Boathouse. I used to help the owners out every so often."

"Doing what?"

Krillin wiggled his eyebrows. "Hey, best bouncer on the docks. Nobody ever saw the short guy coming until it was too late."

Eighteen snorted but she let him open the door for her anyway. There were quite a few people in Lukey's in spite of the early hour; an older couple bustling around the bar, four young men setting up instruments on a makeshift stage, and some weathered fishermen dealing cards in the corner.

"Krillin!!" squealed the older woman at the bar. "Mick! Look who's come calling!"

"Good Lord, lad! What is that on yer head?" the bartender exclaimed indignantly. "What's th' matter, bye? Ashamed t' let th' sun shine on yer head as God intended?" As he stepped into the light, it was clear from his leathery pate that Mick had been bald for years and proud of it.

Krillin grinned and rubbed the stubble on the back of his head. "Aw, c'mon, Mick. I just decided to let my hair grow for a change."

"What's wrong with that?" Eighteen demanded suddenly. "I like his new look."

"Oh, ho?" Maggie grinned knowingly and nudged her husband. "And who's this, Krillin? Your young lady, hmm?"

Beet-red, Krillin managed to stammer out some introductions. "Eighteen, this is Mick and Maggie Mulligan. They own the place." He swallowed and continued almost shyly, "This is my friend, Eighteen. She's new around here and I thought I'd show her around."

"You certainly brought her to the right place then," Maggie said cheerfully. "It's good to see you back again and in such fine spirits." She leaned towards Eighteen conspiratorially. "The last time Krillin was here, we were terrible worried about him. I'm so glad he's found a nice girl."

Eighteen glanced at Krillin from the corner of her eye and found him pressing his lips together in an effort not to laugh out loud. He met her look with dancing eyes, knowing how incongruous Maggie's perception of her was.

Mick shook his head and began pouring things behind the bar. "Oh, leave th' youngsters alone, mother. Krillin, why don't ye take a table on th' aft deck an' I'll have yer drinks sent along?"

"Thanks, Mick." Krillin took Eighteen's elbow gingerly and led her to a table overlooking the ocean. "I know they may seem a little eccentric but Mick and Maggie are terrific folks," he said as they sat down together. "I was just a teenager when I first started coming here and they kind of adopted me."

"So I gathered." She stared out over the water, not speaking for a few minutes. "Do I really look like 'a nice girl?'"

"Well, yeah." Krillin smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I like anything you wear but in that dress, you look incredibly feminine. It's breathtaking, really."

"Oh." It might have been the light, but for a brief moment, Krillin could have sworn that she blushed.

Maggie smiled indulgently at them as she set down their drinks. "Here we are, loves - specialty of the house, Mick's rum punch. It's just the thing to start an evening."

Eighteen looked dubiously at the hibiscus flower stuck in the end of her straw. The older woman chuckled good-naturedly. "Oh, that's just a little tradition we have here, dearie. When a lady comes here for the first time, we give her a flower to break the ice. If she wears it over her right ear, the fellas know she wants to be friendly."

Eighteen raised an eyebrow. "And if she wears it on the other side?"

"The left ear means that she's spoken for." Maggie winked at Krillin, who was slowly turning the same color as the flower. "And they'll just have to drown their sorrows at the bar."

Krillin sipped his rum punch nervously as he watched Eighteen finger the bright coral blossom thoughtfully. "You don't have to do anything with it, you know. Mick did it mostly because he likes to be a gentleman."

"So do you." She regarded him with a crystal blue gaze.

"Yeah, well--" He ran a hand through his short hair. Her eyes followed the motion.

"Why do you keep doing that?" she asked. "You only do that when you're uncomfortable or nervous or something."

"Something, yeah." He grinned sheepishly. "This is a special occasion, after all. I've always wanted to treat you to a night out." Reaching over, he clinked his glass against hers. "Cheers!"

Eighteen dutifully lifted her glass and sampled the beverage inside. "Strange taste," she concluded. Her eyes, however, were thoughtful. "So why is this a 'special occasion?'" She glanced at the table. "It wasn't that long ago that I was a killing machine. Hardly someone you'd want to take somewhere."

"But you've changed." Krillin reached across the table and lightly set his hand on top of hers. "Dr. Gero may have turned you into a cyborg and he may have programmed you to do all those things, but deep down, he couldn't change the woman that you really are," he said urgently. "I see you that way all the time. When you're away, like you were today, I count the minutes until you come back."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I just miss you. I find myself thinking about things that you've said or things that we've done or just wondering how I can make you smile." He looked up at her with his head practically on the table. "You have a great smile, you know."

Eighteen snorted. "Clown." She didn't look up but a little twitch at the corners of her mouth gave her away.

"Mostly," Krillin continued as he took another long drink, "I think about the day you kissed me."

"Why?"

It was his turn to look away. "You tell me. It was just, I dunno, strange and wonderful. I haven't felt the same since." The rum was urging him on but he bit back what he really wanted to say.

"I don't know why I did it," she admitted, twirling the flower between her fingers. "My brother thought I did it to be cruel, so that's what I let him think." She sighed pensively. "That's what we were programmed for, after all. I don't know why I malfunctioned."

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugged. "What other reason could there be? I lost my killer instincts. Why else would I be here?"

"Everybody has to be somewhere, Eighteen." Krillin smiled wanly. "Even if it is only just with me."

Unblinking, she stared at him until his eyes began to water. "You're serious, aren't you?" She blinked and cocked her head. "Why do you keep putting yourself down?"

"Let's just put it this way," he said quietly, "girls have never been interested in me. They want the tall, handsome guys with flashy cars and fat wallets."

"Then they were fools."

"Yeah, maybe." He sighed and finished his drink. "I learned long ago that I am the way that I am. People that can see beyond the outside are the ones worth hanging on to."

The band struck up a lively tune and for a while they merely sat and listened to the music, lost in their own thoughts. Krillin berated himself silently for not telling her what he really wanted to say - that he was in love with her and had been ever since that first kiss. The problem was that he had no way of knowing how Eighteen felt; she was still an enigma to him in so many ways.

A number of young men gathered at the bar had been looking in their direction. Krillin could tell that they were scoping Eighteen out. He couldn't blame them; they must be thinking that she was too gorgeous to keep company with an ugly shrimp like him. Eighteen was watching the band playing, one long leg crossed over the other, keeping time to the music. It was a sight that had kept his attention so he knew it was only a matter of time before it attracted other men. Finally, one of them became brave enough to come over. Krillin stared at the floor, dreading what was coming next.

"Miss?" The newcomer's voice was nervous. "I was wondering --"

"Thanks," Eighteen said lightly, "but I'm taken."

Krillin's head shot up to see her carefully tucking the hibiscus flower behind her left ear. His mouth went dry.

"Well?" She gave him the barest smile. "How does it look?"

"Perfect," he said hoarsely. A slow ballad began to play. "Would you like to dance?"

Eighteen raised an eyebrow. "It might look a little odd."

"I'll cheat." He took her hand and levitated up to eye level with her. "There's enough of a crowd that no one's going to notice."

Stepping into the circle of his arms, Eighteen let him guide her around in a smooth glide around the floor. If anyone commented on their unusual dance style, neither of them noticed. Krillin was only barely aware of other people; he was paying too much attention to the feel of his hand on Eighteen's waist and the way her fingers tightened on his. They began to close the gap between them with each revolution until their faces were only inches apart.

The music stopped and a chorus of appreciative voices rose up around them. Krillin dropped abruptly to the floor and looked back up at her. "So? What'd you think of the band?"

Eighteen studied the scruffy quartet on the makeshift stage as they switched instruments. "I've never heard anything like it."

"It's a fusion of traditional sea chanteys and contemporary music." He tossed his head towards the bar. "Mick used to run a fishing boat before he retired. He loves this stuff."

One of the guitarists had just put a fiddle to his shoulder. Eighteen reacted, stepping back into Krillin, as the fiddler played a merry riff to begin the next tune. "It's unusual," she commented, "but not unpleasantly so."

"C'mon," Krillin said, "we'll hear better at the bar. This one is a little too lively for me."

Eighteen started to protest but changed her mind once the floor began to shake from the inexperienced feet pounding out vigorous jigs. She placed her hand on Krillin's shoulder and let him break a path for them through the crowd.

"There's our lad!" Maggie cried out. She dusted off a stool with a bar rag. "Here's a seat for your lady. Come tell us how Roshi's doing, the old rascal!"

Momentarily distracted by Eighteen crossing her legs as she perched on the barstool, Krillin managed to answer. "Oh, Master Roshi's fine - he and Oolong were having a, um, movie night and we decided to let them have the house to themselves."

Eighteen rolled her eyes. Mick caught her expression and snorted. "I don't know how ye tolerate that horny old fart," he said bluntly.

"Mick!" Maggie exclaimed indignantly. "Roshi's always been polite to me."

"That's because he knows I'd split him up th' middle with a gutting knife if he didn't," Mick replied. "I used to drop supplies by there when I had my boat. I know what he's like at home." He eyed Krillin. "I hope yer keeping an eye on him. That's no place for a lady, especially one as lovely as yers."

Krillin blushed slightly. "Oh, I'm not worried. Eighteen has a mean right hook. Master Roshi knows better than to fool with her. We had a little talk about that."

"Really?" Eighteen gave him a piercing look.

"Yes." His return look was equally blunt. "That first night, in fact."

The corner of her mouth twitched. "I didn't know that."

"Well, you weren't supposed to." He tried to shrug it off. "It was just something between him and me."

The look that Eighteen gave him was a curious mix of disbelief and vague amusement. Krillin wanted to crawl into his shoes from embarrassment, because he really didn't want to go into the details of that particular night in front of everyone. He'd threatened both Roshi and Oolong within an inch of their lives if either one of them scared her off. It wasn't until he'd nearly powered up in the house before they thought he was serious.

Maggie was glancing between Krillin and Eighteen in delighted fascination when Mick slapped two more drinks on the bar.

"Here ye go, ye two," the bartender announced loudly. "All that dancing makes ye thirsty."

"Thanks, Mick," Krillin muttered gratefully.

Eighteen tasted hers and raised an eyebrow. "It tastes different."

"Oh, that's because there's no rum in it," Krillin answered. "If you want, Mick can put some in for you."

"Why?"

Mick cleared his throat. "Krillin an' me, we have an arrangement. His first drink is like I usually make it, an' th' rest of them are virgins."

Eighteen looked into her glass and then at Krillin, raising her eyebrows at the unfamiliar term.

"He means there's no alcohol in it," Krillin explained. He frowned with a sigh. "My father was an alcoholic. I promised myself that I'd never go down that path."

Maggie gave him a motherly pat on the back. "An' we promised that you never would, didn't we, Mick an' me?" She spotted some new arrivals and went over to attend to them.

The rollicking strains of the music filled the uncomfortable silence between them. Thinking of his father always depressed Krillin and that made him want to drink and he'd seen enough of that vicious cycle as a child to know that he didn't want any part of it.

Mick returned to their end of the bar. "So," he asked Eighteen, "want me t' spice that up for ye?"

"No." Krillin looked up to see Eighteen setting her half-empty glass down. "I think I like it better this way." She smiled at him with a barely visible curve of her lips.

The end of a bar towel flicked out and hit Krillin on the ear. Mick winked at him. "What're ye doin' hangin'around here, bye? Can't ye see th' girl wants t'dance?"

As Krillin took her hand, Eighteen murmured, "That was news to me. You?"

"Maggie may talk more, but Mick's the bigger romantic." As he floated up to eye level, he smiled wanly at her. "Besides, it was fun the first time, wasn't it?"

Bemused, Eighteen merely draped her arms upon his shoulders, clearly copying some of the other couples dancing nearby. Krillin placed his hands on her waist and hoped that she wouldn't notice his sweaty palms as they swayed to the music.

"This isn't too bad," Eighteen admitted with a vague shrug. "If you decide to come here again, I wouldn't mind coming along."

"Really?" His heart was beating in his ears.

"Beats watching the pig and the pervert drool all night."

Krillin laughed as he met her eyes. "Definitely."

After a few seconds, it was her turn to act self-conscious and look away. "So," she began hesitantly, "you really missed me today?"

"Yes."

"Seventeen always thought shopping was boring, but if you wanted to," her cat-like eyes glanced back at him, "I wouldn't mind the company."

"Well..." At that moment, Krillin noticed that her fingers were twitching against the back of his neck, toying with the collar of his shirt like she was nervous. Her expression, however, was cool and uninvolved as usual. "Thanks, Eighteen. The next time you want to go, I'm there."

She shrugged. "It's your money."

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur of music and dancing and just being together. By the time the band finished their second set however, Eighteen had started to get a little tense about being around so many people so Krillin said his farewells to Maggie and Mick and called it a night. Since Krillin had a better sense of navigation, Eighteen allowed him to fly close to her. He smiled at the careful way she had wrapped her hibicus flower up in a bar napkin and had it carefully tucked in her left hand like it was breakable. She merely glanced at him as if daring him to comment on it and he wisely said nothing.

"Uh oh," Krillin said as they circled in towards the island, "it looks like Oolong rented a double feature. I can see the TV on from here."

Eighteen snorted. "That's nothing. I can hear that old pervert cackling."

"Well, I left my window open just in case so we can still get in. Want to sit on the roof and look at the stars for a while?" Krillin looked over at her wistfully, trying hard not to look like a pathetic puppy. "I'd suggest the beach but the tide's coming in."

She gave him a shadow of a smile. "All right."

Silently, they landed lightly and settled on the peak of the roof. Krillin tried to make small talk by pointing out different constellations but Eighteen seemed preoccupied. She pulled her knees up under her skirt and curled her arms around them like a little girl. That in itself was a revelation, that Eighteen had once been as normal as anyone else.

"You stopped talking," she said abruptly.

"Sometimes it's nice to just sit and let your mind wander. That's what's so great about fishing -- you can fish all day without catching a thing and it doesn't bother you." He smiled at her. "I just like being with you."

Her eyes seemed a paler shade of blue in the moonlight. "This has been nice," she admitted.

"Yeah, it has."

Stretching her legs out and curling them to one side, Eighteen turned slightly towards him. She studied him for a moment. He should have felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny but he was intrigued by her directness.

"You said earlier that you think about the time that I kissed you," she began decisively. "Did you mean it?"

"Y-yes," he stammered. "I wouldn't have said so otherwise."

"In that case," Eighteen took a deep breath and said nervously, "you owe me a kiss." She leaned towards him.

"Okay." Krillin reached up and brushed back the veil of golden hair from her face. Lightly caressing her cheek with his thumb, he murmured, "Close your eyes."

"Why? We didn't last time." Eighteen murmured back but her eyelashes were fluttering shut in spite of her protest.

Her lips were soft and trembling as he came in closer. "Trust me," he breathed and leaned into the kiss, touching her face with only his fingertips. Softly, he let his mouth brush against hers, intending to keep it simple but he was totally unprepared when he felt her lean into the kiss. Her lips parted and the light static charge passed between them set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Evidently it startled Eighteen as well because she backed away at the same moment he did. They sat there for a few moments, unblinking, uncertain as to what had just occurred.

Eighteen looked away first, clearly disturbed. "Well."

His heart fell. He couldn't think of anything to say. Out of the corner of his eye, Krillin could see her staring out at sea, the wind blowing her hair across her face like a gold silk curtain. She put her fingertips to her lips thoughtfully and scowled.

"That was .... strange," she said finally. "Did it feel like that before?"

"Well, it was only on the cheek," Krillin admitted. "Besides, I was too terrified at the time to really notice anything else."

Eighteen frowned. "No, that's not it."

"Huh?"

"Kiss me again," she demanded, closing her eyes and puckering up.

"Oh-kay." Krillin leaned over and delivered a second kiss. Her lips became curious and explored his mouth in tingling sweeps that surged through his body. Breathless, they pulled away and he watched as Eighteen sat there staring into space for a few moments. "Is everything all right?"

She didn't answer right away but Krillin could tell she was working through an internal struggle. Finally, Eighteen asked in a subdued voice, "Why does it feel different?" She frowned at him, but in a puzzled way instead of her usual hostile stare. "I felt nothing the first time but now --" she put her fingers to her mouth again "-when we kiss that way, it makes me feel so strange. It tingles all the way through me."

"Maybe it's because you know me a little better now," he suggested, not daring to hope. "What was it, only three or four months ago? You and Seventeen had just been activated and I was just some guy in your way." He smiled gently. "Since you've been staying here, the things that I've learned about you just makes me like you more."

Eighteen nodded. "Sounds reasonable." Her cat-like eyes flicked over him. "I used to enjoy how terrified you were of me."

Giving a little laugh, Krillin rolled his eyes. "Heh, sometimes you still do terrify me but that's what I love about you." The minute the words left his lips, he instantly regretted it. He cringed and waited but her indignant retaliation never came.

"You -- love me?"

"Yes." He slowly looked over at her. "I've been loving you from the very start."

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. She drew a ragged breath and exclaimed hoarsely, "You idiot! You can't love me - I'm a robot! I'm no better than a machine!" She hugged her arms to her sides and looked away. "How can you be so stupid?"

"Hey," he said softly as he half-slid, half-floated over the roof tiles to face her. "Love isn't supposed to make sense. All I know is ever since you gave me that kiss on the cheek, I haven't been the same. It doesn't matter if you're an android or a cyborg or a really attractive can opener -- I know that you have just as much right to love and be loved as anybody else. If that's being stupid, then so be it!"

The static field around them surged as Eighteen's power levels began to fluctuate with her emotions. Krillin stood his ground, placing a hand on either side of her as she continued to sit on the peak of the roof. Finally, her nostrils flared.

"If you don't get out of my way," she ground out, "I'll blast you."

"Go ahead. I'm at ground zero - how much could it possibly hurt?"

"You're insane."

"And I still love you."

They both furrowed their eyebrows and glared at each other for several seconds. Eighteen's cornsilk hair began to flare around her head like a halo. Krillin raised his ki to counter her power levels. All around them, the roof tiles began to rattle like castanets from the energy vibrations. The screen door slammed open downstairs and Master Roshi's screech cut the tension like a knife.

"WOULD YOU TWO KNOCK IT OFF!?!" he bellowed. "You're screwing up my television reception and frying half the appliances in the house!"

Krillin instantly cringed. "Sorry, Master!"

The interruption served its purpose however; both Krillin and Eighteen backed off to their proverbial corners, looking at each other sheepishly.

"'Really attractive can opener?'" Eighteen asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Oh, that." He reached back and rubbed his hair. "For some reason, all I could think of was when you made lunch the other day. Never had ravioli and chicken noodle soup together before."

Eighteen eyed him suspiciously. "Oolong said it tasted like hog slop."

"Hey, he's a pig - what'd you expect?" Krillin shrugged. "Look, maybe my choice of words wasn't all that great but that doesn't change how I feel about you."

"This is so confusing." She sighed and tilted her head to the side, looking away. "Before Dr. Gero, there's nothing. All I know is what he programmed into me." Throwing her hands up, she exclaimed, "I have even less social skills than Vegeta!"

"Yeah, but you've got much nicer hair," Krillin joked. "Look, I'm no prize. All my life has been spent training and fighting so I don't know what it's like to be normal either." He reached over and took her hand. "Why don't we find out together, hmm? I promise that I won't do anything that you don't want to do - we'll just take it slow, okay?"

A cool breeze rose off of the ocean and blew her hair across her face, hiding her expression. She was looking at her hand in his, studying it. "Even if it means waiting forever?"

"Even then."

A ship's bell far out at sea broke the silence while Eighteen thought about it. Krillin was grateful for the distraction - his own thoughts were making him nervous enough even without thinking about her possible reactions. He was so intent on watching the fishing boat passing the island that he almost didn't notice Eighteen leaning towards him until her shoulder brushed his. Startled, he found himself looking into a pair of cool blue eyes.

"I'm not promising anything," she said in a flat monotone.

However, he saw another answer in her eyes. Krillin smiled as her fingers intertwined with his.

"That's good enough for me."

The End?